


Devil Gate Drive

by Aerys_Krystie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerys_Krystie/pseuds/Aerys_Krystie
Summary: Derek is a Sentinel. He’s gotten by without having a Guide, because he’s never needed one. His return to Beacon Hills is nothing like he expected.Jackson is Guide-adjacent. He’s on the lower end of the spectrum. So when he finds a zoned out Sentinel, he isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing. He never expected to bond with the Sentinel.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore, Ethan/Danny Mahealani, Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Devil Gate Drive

**~Devil Gate Drive~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

**Theme:** AU – Sentinels & Guides.

**Plot:** Derek is a Sentinel. He’s gotten by without having a Guide, because he’s never needed one. His return to Beacon Hills is nothing like he expected.

Jackson is Guide-adjacent. He’s on the lower end of the spectrum. So when he finds a zoned out Sentinel, he isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing. He never expected to bond with the Sentinel.

**Warnings:** Slash, language, OOC.

**Disclaimer:** Everything of and referring to _Teen Wolf_ is not mine. This is a fan-made, non-profit story. Please support the official release.

* * *

The streets of The Dive were narrow, piled high with rotting garbage and refuse. It wasn’t a pleasant place to hang around, as even the sun seemed to give up on it, barely shining through the overgrown trees or the tall buildings that seemed to reach on forever. Those that lived there wanted to move out and those that visited wanted to leave as quickly as possible. It wasn’t where decent folk went, unless they were up to something extremely shady. Police patrols were rare. Nearly everyone, visitors and residents alike, stayed away from the one section only called Devil Gate Drive. It was a stretch of road that ate people. They vanished, never seen or heard from again. The trees leaned over the road, making a tunnel that seemed to lure people down it. For as long as anyone’s known, Devil Gate Drive has been around. No one knows where it came from or how it came to be.

It simply was.

* * *

The last decade was like something from a dream. Not a good dream or a bad dream, just a dream. Something that was fuzzy, not entirely in focus and leaving the mind a little baffled. Parts would come into focus– a bar, a song and then they would fade away. Faces moved by in a blur, none of them with distinguishable features, except some that had pretty eyes or a pretty mouth. Bodies moving together, as one or independent of the group. Fights that came and went, all ending with someone bloodied.

Like moving through a veil, the moment they crossed into Beacon Hills, everything came in focus. Hyper-aware of the changes, the oppressive energy that hung low on the town like a living, breathing blanket. The lack of sunlight that didn’t seem to penetrate it. They were back for one reason and that was because their uncle had gone insane. There was no polite way of saying it. According to the Sheriff, ‘He had gone down the Drive and came back. No one’s ever done that before.’

Derek Hale knew about ‘the Drive.’ All of them did. It was a stretch of road that existed when he lived there and it would continue to exist after he died. What he didn’t understand was why his uncle went down there. No one went down the Drive, unless they were suicidal. It could be that was the case, as the fire had removed much of their family and Peter had lost his Guide. Without someone to return him to reality, he could have wandered down there without realizing it. Coming back, alive, was the strangest part.

For as long as he could remember, there were stories about the people that drove down Devil Gate Drive. Everything vanished. The car, the people and eventually, their memories. They just became another statistic. Any government that tried to open it up had to explain why family members had vanished. There was no explanation for Devil Gate Drive. In fact, _that_ was the explanation given when an entire road crew went missing. Since then, it was fenced off, but that didn’t stop people from being stupid.

Kids would make dares with each other. ‘How far down can you go, before you chicken out?’ Teens would drink near the gate, which would materialize from nowhere, as though inviting them to step through. More than one drinking party had ended because someone was dumb enough to enter through the gate. Those that did usually felt some kind of strange pull towards it. No one could explain it.

Sentinels felt it the worse, especially those that had a psychic affinity. Derek could remember the pull since before he came in. His mother always told him that he was strong-minded and that evil beings liked those with strong minds. Derek didn’t understand when he was younger and he wasn’t entirely sure if he understood it now. They moved through Beacon Hills and Derek could hear still hear everything, despite the plugs in his ears.

The stench of the Dive seemed to infect all of the town, which had him and his sister holding their breath. Something they needed to get reacquainted with. Ten years away was a long time, Derek realized as he saw places that had closed down. The boards over the windows were tagged by graffiti artists. Screams and shouts seemed to reverberate from all around the town. Squeals of laughter and joy was almost drowned out by the drunken brawls that were happening in the streets outside of bars and nightclubs.

In amongst it all, there was a steady beating, like a great heart that was pumping all the evilness into the town.

Staring ahead, Derek knew where the beating was coming from. It came from the same place when he lived there and it would always come from the same place. Devil Gate Drive. Almost as though he could feel sly fingers plucking at the edges of his mind, Derek wanted to see the gate. He wanted to see what would happen if he should walk down the road. He knew Laura would scold him for being reckless, but he couldn’t argue that he wasn’t curious and always was.

Closing his eyes, Derek tried to block everything out. He didn’t want to think, speak or hear anything. He just wanted to get to their apartment, so he could sleep. The trip from New York had been a long one, with Laura doing most of the driving. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Derek, but she wanted him well-rested for when they returned. The unspoken rule was that they never mentioned the fire. They never mentioned how Derek was, in part, responsible for them fleeing their hometown and losing most of their family.

A shiver ran through him and Derek opened his eyes. An unspoken rule because Laura feared what Derek might do if he was confronted with it. She was trying to protect him from the reality of what happened. Derek had seen the damage. He knew what he was responsible for. He knew the only reason they were returning was because of what happened. Laura wanted answers. She wanted to know who could have done it.

All Derek wanted was to sleep.

* * *

The stench of the asylum bothered Derek. Even under the industrial strength disinfectants used, he could still smell everything that was clinging to the walls. The stench of desperation, unabated sexual desire, phobia and death were like living, breathing creatures that scurried around just outside the field of vision, making just enough movement to catch someone’s attention and then disappearing, but leaving the heart thudding a little quicker than normal.

Every scent had its own unique stench. Some were nice, like joy and comfort. Others were acrid, a horrid odor that clung to the back of his throat like fear. Others affected him, like anguish and mental pain. If he was close to someone, he could always feel their physical pain like it was his own. Thankfully, he wasn’t very close to many anymore. Laura was always careful, knowing that his Sentinel senses could get the best of him, should she return home with a wound.

Derek liked that she still cared about him. He liked that she wanted to make him comfortable. What he didn’t like was her treating him like he was a crystal vase. He was able to take care of himself. He had done so for most of the ten years they were away for. He didn’t want to burden her and he knew there would come a day where he needed to learn to stand on his own. He might be a rare Fourth Tier Sentinel, but that just made him more determined to prove he could look after himself.

As they spoke with the doctor that was treating Peter, after his trip down murder lane, Derek stared over the man’s shoulder. He stared into space, not really hearing what was being said, but making sure he didn’t check out entirely. That was another thing Laura was worried about. Derek zoning out without a Guide around to bring him back. He loved his sister, cared for her deeply, but even before the fire, Derek had been super careful about his senses. He didn’t want or need a Guide for the basic aspects of life.

“He hasn’t responded well to the medications we have him,” the doctor said and sighed. “We’ve been trying numerous combinations, because of his Sentinel abilities.”

“Is there any way we can help him?” Laura asked.

She sounded so small and frightened. Derek blinked and trained his gaze on her. She was trying her hardest to keep everything together. She was the head of the family, now. With their mother and Uncle Peter out of the picture, she was responsible for their continued growth. She was in charge of how they appeared to the public. Once upon a decade ago, the Hale name actually meant something in Beacon Hills.

The doctor spoke with them a while longer, explaining how there wasn’t much that could be done for someone who had their Guide violently ripped from them. Peter needed to work on it himself. He needed to come back to his own mind, as he was refusing to let another Guide bring him back. He was lost within his head and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to help him, unless he wanted it.

After promising that they could see Peter, _eventually_ , the doctor walked them out of his office. Derek didn’t realize that the stench wasn’t as bad behind the closed door. Once he was in the hallway, it took everything in him not to vomit. He had no idea how Sentinels with enhanced smell could stand being in there, even if they weren’t in there by choice. The asylum might be close to The Dive, where the stench of rotting refuse and garbage was bad enough, but he was looking forward to that than everything within the white walls.

Once they were outside, Derek inhaled deeply and groaned quietly. Laura looked at him, sympathy in her eyes, which he could see and _feel_. She was projecting without realizing it and Derek adverted his gaze, turning his eyes to the door they just walked out. He wanted to see Peter, wanted to apologize, despite how hollow it would sound coming from someone responsible. He just wanted to feel some semblance of hope that maybe they hadn’t lost Peter for good. Maybe there was a way to bring him back.

Bring him back to what? Derek had no idea what was waiting for his uncle if he was ever released from his cell. He hadn’t been careful in his kills, but he had been messy. After the third body of some video store clerk, the Sheriff was able to track the blood trail right back to where Peter was living. He hadn’t bothered to clean up or hide any of the evidence of what he’d done. As far as he was concerned, he was _justified_ in the kills. All of them had been suspected of having some kind of connection with the Hale fire. None of them were arrested or tried and that wasn’t good enough for Peter.

As they approached Laura’s car, Derek wondered how long it would have taken Peter to realize that his own nephew had a hand to play in the fire. Would his death be slower, more painful because of what Peter had to endure? Would it be fast and relatively painless, because he was family and Peter didn’t want to see his nephew suffer? Derek had no idea. Peter had been horribly burned after the fire and he managed to survive it, get well enough to take a trip down Devil Gate Drive and return. The only person to ever come back from a walk down there and he went on a killing spree less than twelve hours later.

Buckling the seatbelt, Derek glanced out the window and frowned when he saw a black wolf turn up an alley. He really needed sleep.

* * *

In retrospect, going to a bar was probably a really, _really_ dumb idea. Derek would definitely agree with the Laura-like voice in his head telling him that he shouldn’t be there. The horrible song blaring from the jukebox was almost enough to send him into a fugue state. He adjusted the plugs in his ears and made his way up to the bar, ignoring the smiling faces around him. Maybe that was why the faces never had any features to them in his memories.

Standing back, Derek had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, staring intently at one of the bartenders. Something about him was familiar and for the life of him, Derek couldn’t figure out what it was. The blue eyes were pale and the smile was electric as he spoke with the female bartender, placing beers, whiskeys and cocktails on the bar and moving onto the next person. His movements were fluid, like a dance he and the female had with each other.

The blue eyes met his for an instant and Derek realized that the kid was happy being there, around the people and the noise. That was his element. The smile was genuine and the joy was practically pure. Maybe he should have gone to another bar, as he continued to stare at the bartender in the tight black shirt, showing off his lean form. The smile faltered for a moment, before the eyes dropped from him and to someone else that had approached the bar for their drinks.

In retrospect, going to a bar was a really, _really_ dumb fucking idea.

\--

While Laura looked into the fire, Derek stayed in the apartment, trying to reacquaint himself with all the noises, smells and sights of Beacon Hills. He had survived New York, he could survive small town America. He stayed inside, so he wouldn’t track down any scents. He stayed inside, so he wouldn’t go to Devil Gate Drive and try to find what had his uncle going down there. He stayed inside, so if he did zone out, he wouldn’t be in danger. He stayed inside, so he wouldn’t have to see those blues in real life. He stayed inside, so he could pretend that everything was normal.

He stayed inside, so he could get some sleep.

\--

Two nights later, someone was knocking on the door to the apartment. He and Laura could both smell gun oil, gunpowder and stale coffee. They frowned at the other as Laura opened the door and stepped to the side, letting in Sheriff Stilinski and Deputy Stilinski. Both were nervous, curious and a little scared about having the conversation that was coming. Derek didn’t blame them.

What surprised him was that Stiles was a deputy at eighteen. Derek had no doubt that Stiles had excelled through police academy. Derek could question why he would return to Beacon Hills, considering there was probably less weird deaths and disappearances elsewhere in the country. Hell, just in the State of California. Yet, there he was, in his uniform and smiling at Laura.

“Would you like some coffee?” Laura asked as she went into the tiny kitchenette, while Stiles and Noah nodded. “How about you, Derek? Want some tea?”

Derek shook his head and sat down with his back to the light, rubbing his eyes. “We aren’t being arrested for returning, are we?” he asked as he dropped his hand, gazing at the Sheriff and deputy.

Stiles grinned and shook his head. “Nah, man.” The grin dropped from his face and his heart rate increased slightly. “We do need to talk to you, though. We need to ask if either of you can think of a reason for your uncle to… Well, to enter Devil Gate Drive and then go on a murder spree?”

“The loss of his Guide would explain the trip the Drive,” Laura said softly, Derek flinching slightly as she was right beside him. He could hear the couple three floors below them having sex. The father of three next to them was snoring loudly, as though he was in the same room as him. Laura glanced down at him and smiled apologetically. “We… Well, to be honest, we haven’t really kept in touch with him since we left.”

Noah nodded slowly, eyes drifting to Derek. “Are you all right?” he asked softly and Derek nodded, rubbing his eyes again. “You’re not going into fugue, are you?”

“No,” Derek answered and sighed, looking at the Sheriff with tired eyes. “Laura can answer your questions. I’m really sorry, but I just need sleep.”

Stiles nodded with a small smile. “Of course, man. We’ll try to keep it down.”

Derek sighed as he stood up and went to his bedroom, closing the door. He laid on the bed, putting in the earplugs, which did very little to drown out everything. He really needed to look into soundproofing for the room. He never realized how lucky Laura was to be Tier Two, with heightened smell and touch. She didn’t have to listen to everything around her. She didn’t know what it felt like to constantly be tired because the noises just wouldn’t stop and his ears wouldn’t stop picking them up.

Rolling onto his side, Derek covered his exposed ear with his pillow and closed his eyes.

* * *

Opening his eyes as the alarm blared at him, Jackson groaned quietly. He stared at the device that had broken his sleep and slapped the snooze button, rolling over. He snuggled down into the covers and hugged his pillow, wanting to return the dream that was clinging to the edges of his mind. It had been good and he wasn’t ready to leave it just yet.

Just as it was starting to return, the alarm blared at him again and Jackson groaned. He turned it off and saw that it was just past noon. He stretched and sat up, tossing back the covers. He could hear his roommate in the kitchen, making his lunch and probably Jackson’s breakfast. After using the bathroom, Jackson went back to his bedroom, dressing in his running gear, before he left it and grinned at his best friend, kissing his cheek as he sat down.

“Good night or good dream?” Danny asked with a smirk, eating his grilled cheese sandwich.

“Both?” Jackson offered, enjoying the muesli, glancing at the TV that was on the news. It appeared that someone else had gone missing in the Drive.

Danny looked over his shoulder and sighed. “Can you believe how dumb some people are?” He shook his head as Jackson mumbled his agreement. “What time do you start tonight?”

“Chris wants me in at five.” Jackson turned his eyes to Danny, who had dropped his eyes to the textbook in front of him. “I’ll probably be home late, again.”

Danny chuckled. “When aren’t you home late?” He glanced up. “Are you seeing someone? I can’t see them keeping you there until one in the morning.”

“Between you and work, I don’t have time for a social life.” Jackson grinned as he finished his breakfast and washed the bowl and spoon. “I’m heading out for my run. Enjoy your book.”

Danny mumbled something around the last mouthful of his sandwich as Jackson went to his bedroom, grabbing his iPod and put in his earphones. He got his running playlist up and stretched in his room, before he jogged from the apartment and down the stairs. Living with Danny was probably the best thing about graduating.

For some reason, Danny decided that he couldn’t let Jackson live alone, as he would go insane. Jackson didn’t agree with that at all. He was fine being on his own, but he wasn’t going to complain about having his best friend around him. Danny was like a grounding force for him, someone that always had his best interests at heart. He turned down a scholarship to MIT in order to keep Jackson sane, which made no sense to Jackson.

He could agree that being out of school left him a little scatterbrained, but it wasn’t so bad that he wasn’t able to look after himself. He had been doing that for most of his life. He was the one that made dinner most of the nights. His adoptive parents were great, in the sense that gave him everything he wanted or needed. When it came to the usual things like love and affection, he needed to visit Danny and his family to receive that. His parents were a little cold towards him, as though they didn’t want to get too close to him.

His trust fund from his real parents’ deaths came through almost the day he turned eighteen. With that, Jackson was able to leave home and put himself through a quick course on cocktails. It wasn’t glamorous, but the tips he made from flirting with customers was enough to pay the bills and gave them some spending money for the occasional takeout. His adoptive parents were usually calling, to make sure he was financially fine.

The path he ran from the apartment took him by Devil Gate Drive. Whenever he was near it, he kept his eyes down on the cracked pavement beneath his shoes and turned the music up. If he couldn’t see or hear everything that was Devil Gate Drive, he couldn’t feel it, either. He wouldn’t feel the despair, fear and hopelessness that seemed to radiate like a cloud from that section of the town. His speed increased along that segment, too. The sooner he passed it, the happier he was.

He hit something solid and fell back onto his ass, staring up at the man that blinked down at him, as though he was unsure where he was. “Sorry,” Jackson panted and got to his feet. He frowned as he took in the face, almost certain he had seen that person somewhere before. He was facing the Drive and Jackson glanced at it, rubbing his arms as a chill settled over him. “I don’t recommend going there, man,” he said quietly and looked back at the person, who was staring down the Drive.

Jackson could see flesh colored earplugs in the man’s ear and knew he was a Sentinel. As he seemed apparent that he wasn’t going to say anything, Jackson stepped around him and continued on his run. It wasn’t his job to stop people from wanting to commit suicide. If the man wanted to enter the Drive, there wasn’t anything Jackson could do to stop him. Only one person had survived their encounter in there and he didn’t come back entirely together.

The less time he spent around Sentinels the happier he was, as well. That had been fun, learning that he was Guide-adjacent, which meant that he had some potential to become a Guide. It wasn’t very likely, as he was so low on the spectrum that people were surprised when he tuned into a Sentinel’s thoughts or emotions. As he wasn’t a real Guide, Jackson didn’t bother himself around Sentinels. He didn’t bother to attend classes to learn what he was supposed to do, should he come across a zoned out Sentinel. The likeliness of that happening was so slim that Jackson hadn’t thought about it.

Returning from his run, Jackson showered and lazed around while Danny studied. He felt comfortable and relaxed, even though Danny was stressing about an exam that was coming up. Moving over to his friend, Jackson gave him a massage, knowing that Danny was always too hard on himself when it came to his studies. There were times that Jackson wanted to take him out, so he could get hammered and forget for a few hours that he was a college student. Once Danny was relaxed, Jackson smiled and got dressed for work, knowing it would be a good night.

\--

It was a good night. Three bar brawls broke out. The first one Jackson didn’t see as he was on break. He came back to the room to see people being thrown around and the bouncers trying to break it up. It took the Sheriff’s department nearly half an hour to get everyone apart. The second started when someone’s girlfriend decided to flirt with someone else, which resulted in Jackson ducking a shot glass that smashed behind him. Allison quickly cleaned it up, brushing the shards from Jackson’s back. The bouncers were able to break that one up. The third one wasn’t one that Jackson was expecting. There was some bumping and then chairs were being broken over people’s backs. The bouncers weren’t needed to break it up, as the fight spilled over to a table where a Sentinel was sitting and was _pissed off_ that their drink was spilled. In thirty seconds, everyone that was part of the brawl was literally thrown out the door.

Allison thanked the Sentinel and Jackson stared at the man, realizing it was the one he ran into that morning. That’s where he had seen the man before. He had been in the previous night, stared at Jackson and then left before he got to the bar. He knew that Sentinels were better than everyone around them, but he never thought they could end a bar brawl in thirty seconds. The Sentinel just nodded at whatever Allison said to him, before his eyes flicked to Jackson for a moment. Jackson poured a double of whiskey, calling to Allison. He nodded at the man when she got to the bar and she smiled, taking him the drink.

As no one died while on the premises, Jackson would call it a great night.

\--

Getting home in the morning, Jackson made as little noise as possible. He had no doubt that Danny would have been up late, trying to cram all the information he needed into his head, despite having the weekend ahead to do that. He pulled his tips from his wallet and put the cash into the jar that was used for necessities and take out. He went to his bedroom, stripping out of his shirt, jeans and shoes. He collapsed on his bed, slipping under the covers and hugging his pillow. He had the same shift that day, as well. He could only hope that the Sentinel was there to stop any other fights that broke out.

\--

The alarm blared at him and Jackson cracked an eye, wishing he could burn that damn thing. He slapped the snooze button and rolled over, still wanting to dream a little more. He frowned and opened his eyes, crying out when brown eyes stared back at him, pulling back quickly. Stiles grinned and stood up from where he was crouched beside the bed. Jackson groaned and rubbed his eyes a little, before he stared at Stiles, who was in uniform. Jackson assumed he wanted a statement about the fights.

Before Stiles could open his mouth to say anything, Jackson held his hand up. He went into the bathroom, going about his usual routine. He returned to his bedroom and pulled on his jeans from the previous night, not caring that they stunk of spilled alcohol. He felt a little better not being nearly naked in front of a deputy. He scrubbed his hands over his face, before running them through his hair and settling them on his neck. He felt like he hadn’t gotten any sleep.

“All right. What’s up, Stilinski?” he asked and smothered a yawn.

“Just need a statement from you, man,” Stiles said as he pulled out his notebook.

“I didn’t see what started the first fight,” Jackson said and forced his eyes open. “I was on break. The second was caused by some guy getting jealous that his girl was talking to someone else. The third one… I think it was some bad blood or something.” He shrugged and Stiles’ pen was moving quickly. “Hell, could have been an active night for the Drive.”

“Yeah, it seems that way,” Stiles muttered, gazing at Jackson. “You okay, man? You look… _terrible_.”

“Rough nights do that,” Jackson said with a wave of his hand. He closed his eyes and saw green eyes staring at him intensely, before he opened his again. “Anything else you need?”

“No, that’ll do it. Hopefully tonight’s a little easier.” Stiles closed his notebook, staring at Jackson. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I will be.” Jackson stood up and followed Stiles out of the bedroom. He grabbed a cup of coffee and saw Stiles off at the door. He turned around and tried blinking the tiredness from his eyes. “Man, last night was good and shit,” he said as he collapsed into a chair.

“Yeah, Stiles told me about the fights. Three in one night? Your bar doesn’t usually get that rowdy.” Danny refilled Jackson’s coffee, adding non-fat milk to it.

“I don’t know, man,” Jackson said with a sigh and sat back, staring up at the water stained ceiling. “I think the Drive was active last night. Hopefully it got its fill of violence.” He shook his head and focused on Danny again. “How did the studying go?”

“I’m gonna re-read the chapter, just to make sure I’m ready,” Danny said and grinned. “Jesus, you look like shit. Did you get any sleep?”

“I thought I did. I woke up to my alarm, but I feel god-awful.” Jackson finished his coffee and stood up. “I’ll feel better after a run.”

“All right,” Danny said slowly. “Be careful.”

“I always am.”

Jackson dressed in his running gear, grabbing his iPod. He stretched and jogged from the apartment, going down the stairs. He stuck to the sidewalks, not wanting to chance getting hit by a vehicle. He took his usual route, glaring down at the cracked pavement around the Drive. He frowned and looked up, seeing the man from the previous day standing there. He staring down the Drive, again, as though he could see something. Jackson knew he should move around him, but there was something in the way he was standing that made him nervous.

Removing his earphones, Jackson looked at the Sentinel. “Are you all right?” he asked softly, seeing that the earplugs were in place.

The man’s mouth twitched, as though he was going to answer. He should move on, knowing that someone would find him eventually. However, something in the back of his mind was telling him that he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave someone defenseless, even though he didn’t know what to do in order to bring them back. For the first time in his life, Jackson wished he had attended at least _one_ class on being a Guide.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Jackson asked softly, moving to stand in front of the man. He was a few inches taller than Jackson. His hand raised and he hesitated for a moment, before he placed it on the man’s jaw. “Hey, come back. Come back to us,” he murmured. “Can you tell me what day it is?”

“Saturday,” the man answered and blinked. He looked down at Jackson, his green eyes slowly coming back to focus.

Jackson removed his hand and stepped back, feeling the tension in his chest and shoulders releasing. “Are you okay?” The man nodded and scrubbed his hands over his face, running them through his hair and resting them on the nape of his neck. His Henley pulled tight around his chest as his shoulders moved. “Will you be okay to get home from here?”

“Yeah.”

Jackson nodded and smiled, stepping back again. He put his earphones in and continued on his run, before his body cooled down too much. He made his way back to the apartment, forgetting about the Sentinel that he had to bring back. He could only pray that never happened again. If he needed to attend classes to learn about that, he would be very upset about it. It was clear that the Sentinel was unbonded, which made no sense as to why he was walking around without someone he trusted beside him.

After a shower, Jackson ate a granola bar, deciding he could have dinner at the bar. He watched the news, which was reporting on the violence in the town from that night and he sighed quietly. It seemed that the Drive was only going to get more active as they moved closer to Halloween. He closed his eyes and shook his head a little. How could he have forgotten that? The Drive seemed to live for Halloween, making everyone completely insane. By the time it was over, half the town was on fire, people were dead and there was blood nearly everywhere.

Opening his eyes, Jackson bit his lower lip. The areas around the Dive were usually affected the most. He and Danny lived just within the boarder of where it cut off, which meant they would be in danger. He had no idea where the Sentinel lived, but he could only hope that he would be safe, as well.

\--

When Jackson got to work, he wasn’t surprised to have Allison stare at him. He knew he didn’t look the best, but he gave her a grin and she raised an eyebrow and made no comment. He went about setting up, making sure the broken chairs from the previous night were replaced. It wasn’t long after that that patrons began filing in, as though they were going into prohibition. Jackson understood that many people drank to forget their problems, as he had been one when he was younger. Still, he couldn’t understand why people where entering a bar at six in the evening.

The night wore on, Jackson smiling and making polite conversation with those at the bar. He had to warn a few males from Allison, who backed off when he slipped his arm around her shoulders. Allison didn’t need anyone to fight her battles for her, but Jackson hated the way the sleazes at the bar treated her, like she was some kind of prize to win. In turn, Allison did the same thing for him whenever some drunk woman couldn’t get it through her head that he wasn’t interested.

“Jacks,” Chris said as he stood beside him. Jackson looked up, unsure if Chris was making an order or saying his nickname. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the difference, especially after a night like the last one. “Do me a favor and take this order out to that man.”

Jackson frowned, looking at the shot glass in Chris’s hand. He turned his eyes to the man that he was nodding at and his frown remained in place. He shrugged and took the glass, stepping around the bar. He promised the others that whined about his departure that he would return. Until then, they could enjoy him walking away in his tight jeans. He smiled and placed the glass on the table of the Sentinel he pulled back that afternoon. He had no idea why the man would be in a bar, considering he obviously had enhanced hearing.

“Here you go,” Jackson said, keeping his voice low. He knew the man would hear him easily. “Anything else you need?”

“No, thanks.”

Jackson smiled and nodded. He could feel those intense eyes on him as he returned to the bar. Allison placed a hand on his forearm, which had Jackson tensing for some reason. He rolled his shoulders and looked at her. She raised an eyebrow and Jackson grinned, kissing the side of her head. It was cute how much she worried about him when she didn’t need to. If that Sentinel was going to do anything to him, he wouldn’t attempt it in a crowded bar on one of the busiest nights of the week.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice would usually be lost in the music and Jackson looked at her. “He asked for you to take his drink over to him.”

“It’s fine,” Jackson shouted back at her, trying not to look worried at the fact he could hear her perfectly fine. “If you keep worrying like that, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Allison’s eyes widened and she shoved him away playfully. Jackson laughed and made the cocktail for the ladies at the bar. He thanked them for the generous tip they left in his jar, wiping down the bar. He rubbed the nape of his neck and looked around. He found the Sentinel staring at him, the glass empty in front of him. Jackson knew he wanted a refill, but he wasn’t going over there because of that.

Jackson’s eyes went to the woman that was approaching the Sentinel. She sat down and cut off Jackson’s view of the man. Giving his head a shake, Jackson got the beers for the college boys at the bar, smiling at them. He gave them their change. One of them winked at him as he returned to his booth and Jackson smiled, turning around to refill the glasses in the dishwasher as Allison came back with more.

There was a shout and Jackson stood up, seeing that the college boys were getting into a fight. A beer glass was thrown towards the bar and Jackson moved Allison out of the way, wincing at the glass at his shoulder, before it shattered on the ground. He and Allison were covered in beer, which had Jackson glaring at them. The bouncers had moved in to break up the fight, but that seemed to be the cataclysm to start them all. Two other fights broke out around the bar and Jackson’s eyes went to the table where the Sentinel had sat.

In seconds, Allison was on the phone to the Sheriff’s department. The Sentinel and his friend were staying where they were, while Jackson jumped over the bar and tried to rescue the pool cues. Chris was tired of replacing those and Jackson was tired of cleaning the blood from them. Chris was trying to break up the third fight that happened near the back of the bar, while the bouncers were still busy with the college kids.

Jackson grabbed the pool cue from a man and glared at him. “Use your fists like a normal person!” he snapped, gasping as arms wrapped around his waist and he was turned around, a hot body on his back. He heard what sounded like a pool cue snapping and a hiss of pain. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know who it was, but he did it anyway. The Sentinel was there, taking the beating from the man’s friend, who had grabbed another cue. “You don’t have to take it.”

The Sentinel said nothing, tightening his arms around Jackson’s waist for a moment, before he stood up. Jackson’s eyes widened as he saw the Sentinel grab the man’s wrist and twist it up behind his back. He knew that Sentinels were basically superhumans, but he never expected to see one in action in a bar brawl of all places. The Sentinel dragged the man over to the door and threw him out of the building.

“Jackson!” Allison called as she was separating two women that were fighting. “Need you over here!”

Jackson stood up and grabbed one of the women by the shoulders, pulling her away from Allison. The Sheriff’s department arrived, Noah and four of his deputies entered the bar and froze for a moment. They went about stopping the other fights, while Chris helped the bouncers. Jackson knew he would be without work for the next two weeks. He handed the woman he held over to a female deputy that cuffed her and turned her attention to the one Allison was restraining.

Once sanity returned to the bar, Jackson checked on Allison to make sure she wasn’t injured. She smiled at him and shook her head, giving him a hug. Returning the hug, Jackson made himself scan the room, looking for the Sentinel and the woman he was with, despite knowing they weren’t in the bar. Both were gone and Jackson knew he needed to thank the man for everything he had done. He had no idea how to do that, though. He didn’t know the man’s name and he doubted the bar would be open again before Halloween.

Chris sighed as he stood beside the pair of them. “I think I’ll close early tonight. I get the feeling it’ll just be more of the same. Did you need a lift home, Jacks?”

Jackson considered it, knowing that he shouldn’t walk home with the insanity level reaching near peak points. “Yeah, thanks.”

Once everyone was cleared out and the front door was locked, the three of them cleaned up the broken glass, spilled drinks and busted furniture. Jackson sent a quick text to Danny, letting him know that he would be home earlier than usual. He wasn’t sure if Danny would be awake, but he didn’t want Danny attacking him, thinking he was someone breaking in.

Once everything was clean and away, they turned off most of the appliances. Chris and Jackson pulled down the shutters on the front of the building, wanting to protect it as much as possible from the firebugs. With those locked, they walked around to the back of the building and into the waiting car. Jackson slipped into the backseat. He stared out the window, towards the direction of Devil Gate Drive and shivered.

Once home, Jackson walked up the eight flight of stairs. The elevator in the building stopped working correctly shortly after it was installed. No one could find anything wrong with it, but there was a strong chance that the elevator could take someone to the twentieth floor. The building only had fifteen floors, despite the buttons in the elevator saying there was more. It was just safer to take the stairs, even after a disastrous night at work.

Sliding his key into the lock, Jackson frowned. Something was off. He couldn’t tell if it was a smell or a noise that made him hesitate. Danny probably wasn’t expecting him home four hours early and may have invited someone around to help him relax. Jackson wanted to give him the space, but he needed to shower and remove the stench of the bar from his body.

Unlocking the door, Jackson slipped into the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He heard someone curse. “It’s just me, Danny,” Jackson called, keeping the living area light off.

Danny cleared his throat and stood in his bedroom door in his underwear. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine. Just a few brawls. Chris decided it would be best to close up early. Go back to your date, man. I’m just gonna shower and pass out.” Jackson mustered enough energy to give a tired smile.

Danny nodded and went back into his bedroom, closing the door. Jackson went to his bedroom, stripping out of his clothes. He showered quickly and collapsed on the bed in his towel. He knew he should get dressed, just in case Stiles showed up unexpectedly again. Once he was on the bed, Jackson didn’t have the energy to set his alarm, let alone get up and pull on clothes. He spent the night tossing and turning, trying to block out the sounds coming from Danny’s room and the sirens that seemed to be right outside the building.

* * *

A crying baby forced Derek to open his eyes far too soon. He swallowed and sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face, before they moved through his hair and rested on his neck. He could hear Laura moving around in the kitchenette, making coffee and tea, judging by the scents. Derek looked at the clock beside the bed, seeing that it was just past seven. He was almost certain he passed out at some point around five.

Throwing back the sheets, Derek left the bedroom and went to the tiny bathroom. He brushed his teeth and splashed water over his face, glancing at his reflection. His eyes looked dead, he had bags and dark circles that were noticeable on his tanned skin. He shaved and joined his sister at the table, sipping his chamomile tea. She smiled at him and Derek nodded, barely finding the energy for that. He just wanted one night of rest.

“So you protected that boy last night,” Laura said, eyes on yesterday’s paper. “A reason for that?”

“He didn’t deserve it,” Derek said quietly with a shrug.

Laura stared at him and Derek kept his eyes down. She didn’t need to know that he zoned out while staring at Devil Gate Drive. She already worried about him enough without adding that to her list. She didn’t need to know that someone he didn’t know managed to get him back. There was a lot about the previous day she didn’t need to know and Derek wasn’t going to tell her.

They were back to find out who attacked their family and then they could leave again. Even as that thought went through his mind, Derek lowered his eyes more. He stared into the liquid of his cup, watching as the steam rose from it. He saw the minute ripples of the water with every inhale and exhale. The way it moved was almost captivating, but he made sure not to lose himself in it. He did that with the breathing of the Drive and he zoned out. That wasn’t something he needed happening around his sister.

For as long as Laura could remember, Derek didn’t need a guide. He wasn’t about to take that security from her. He wasn’t going to give her something else to fret about. It was bad enough that Peter was in an asylum and she probably felt responsible for that. The one thing she never needed to think about was having a Guide around for her brother. Derek was smart enough to know when his fugue state was coming on and could usually bring himself out of it.

Something about the Drive had made that impossible for him. He didn’t even realize he had zoned out until he was coming back and someone was standing in front of him. That someone was touching him. That someone had guided him back to himself, which was just embarrassing. He didn’t know what would have happened if it hadn’t been the bartender that found him. That was something he refused to think about. He had gone back to the bar with the intent to thank the bartender for his help.

Watching him behind the bar, the way he moved, smiled and spoke with the customers and the other bartender had driven all other thoughts from Derek’s mind. He had wanted to thank him for everything he did, but it seemed like the other didn’t think about it. As though that was something he did every day and Derek was just another Sentinel that zoned out around him. Something about that just stung more than it should.

“He’s pretty,” Laura said and Derek blinked up at her. She smiled. “It’s okay to like someone, Derek.”

A scowl settled on his face and he stood up. He wasn’t going to listen to her trying to tell him that everything was fine, when it wasn’t. They were the last two of their family that still had their minds as their own. Thinking about settling down with someone before they left the town again was just insane. Laura had to know that they couldn’t hang around Beacon Hills forever.

Going to his bedroom, Derek dressed and shoved his feet into his boots. He was going to make sure he didn’t go anywhere near Devil Gate Drive. The less contact he had with that bartender, Jacks as Chris had called him, the better off he would be. He should be helping his sister find out who burned down their family home and murdered most of their family. He should be doing a lot of things, like getting onto the editing that his publisher was waiting on, but he needed sleep for that.

Moving in basically the opposite of the Drive, Derek made his way into the preserve. He ran through the trees, taken back to his younger years of doing that. He wanted to smile, to get lost in the memories, but he could smell the burned wood, the melted fabric and the peeling paint. His nose was reminding him why those memories were bittersweet. Not that he needed the reminder.

There was something else. A gentle hint of something floral and fruity, as well. Derek’s eyes widened and he stopped dead when he recognized it. The bartender usually had the faint scent of rose and orange around him, until it was covered by the drinks that were thrown at him. Derek moved through the trees as quietly as possible. He found the bartender standing in front of his destroyed family home, staring at it. His iPod was blaring some hard rock song and his heartrate was slowing, before it rocketed and he stepped back from the house as though it had just burned him.

Guides were empathic to their surroundings, most of the time. Most learned how to tune it out, so they wouldn’t go insane from everyone’s emotions around them. Derek tilted his head and stepped out of the trees, surprised when the bartender spun around and stared at him. Derek had spied the bruise on his shoulder from the glass that hit him. His back was aching, but he had other senses to think about and could ignore the pain.

Derek’s eyes focused on a bead of sweat that was running from the barman’s temple, down along his cheek and dropping from his jaw. That was all he could do was stare, seeing the perfect skin of the bartender, eyes hyper-focused on how beautiful it was, how pale it was. He blinked as the barman snapped his fingers in front of him and wondered when he moved so close or how he hadn’t noticed him moving.

“You should probably stop doing that,” he said gently.

Derek lowered his eyes, realizing that most of the times he went out, he forget to bring his glasses with him. They were prescription to help take the edge off the high definition that he saw life in. That could have been why he kept zoning out. He was getting overloaded by every little thing and closed his eyes, wishing it was something he could turn off, along with his nose and ears. The clamoring in his head was something else he wished he could ignore.

“Where’s your Guide?” the bartender asked, his voice cutting through everything.

Derek opened his eyes and stared at the other. Like everyone else, he probably thought he was bonded. Derek thought he could find someone, but it seemed like there was something wrong with him. No one he wanted to bond with could bond with him. Laura had dragged him to specialists, as she was desperate for him to have someone to bring him back. Being unbonded wasn’t an issue for Derek. He knew his sister was just thinking about him, but he didn’t need someone else he could lose.

The bartender seemed to know what he was thinking as his eyes widened. “You _don’t_ have a Guide? Why in the hell are you walking around with protection?”

Derek glared, embarrassment and anger bubbling up in him. Some stranger he didn’t know was judging him, thinking he couldn’t take care of himself. Considering he zoned out twice in as many days, Derek would be inclined to agree. The tone of the other was what had him angry. It wasn’t condescending, but it was worried, like Derek was taking some great risk by being outside without a Guide nailed to his hip.

The bartender held his hands up and Derek looked at them. He could see faint callouses, see the ridges and whirls of his prints. He knew they were softer than they appeared, as he had felt one of his jaw the day before. He was putting them up in defeat, though. He knew that he had no say in what Derek did or how he lived his life. Derek’s eyes moved back to the face of the bartender, who was backing away.

“Be careful, man.” He looked over his shoulder, gazing at the house. “There’s a lot around here to drag you down without someone to pull you back.”

Derek’s eyes widened a fraction as the bartender jogged around him. The bartender had brought him back to himself, but he wasn’t a Guide. That was the surprising part. He hadn’t used any of the usual techniques when it came to bringing a Sentinel back to themselves. He had used what he could, which was his voice, touch and without realizing, scent. Derek could be grateful that he didn’t have heightened touch, like his sister did. She needed to buy new sheets and a new mattress.

Turning his eyes to the house, Derek knew exactly what the other meant. There was a lot of pain and suffering in the burned remains. Under all of that, there was something almost light. Derek assumed those were his memories coming to the surface of when life was easier. He lowered his eyes and wondered what made him the way he was back then. Someone had used him and vanished from his life. He frowned and raised his eyes, staring at the house. He could hear the footsteps of others jogging or walking through the preserve.

Back at the apartment, Derek wasn’t surprised to see Stiles there, speaking with Laura about the brawls that happened the night before. Derek finished his tea, keeping his eyes down. He knew Laura would see that something had happened. She wouldn’t know what, but she wouldn’t stop until he told her. He didn’t need her knowing that he had zoned out, while basically counting pores on the bartender.

“Derek,” Stiles said with a grin. “Just the man I was looking for.”

Staring at the deputy, Derek waited for the questions to spill from his mouth. Derek honestly couldn’t say what started any of the brawls. From what he had seen, the college kids were fine, friends even, until something happened when they walked away from the bar. The pair playing pool had been talking trash to a different pair for as long as Derek was there.

The grin slowly fell from Stiles’ face as he looked him over. “Were you guided today?”

Derek stared at Stiles, making sure his face didn’t change its expression. Stiles was a Guide, he would probably see something that no one else could. That didn’t make it any less frightening that someone could see through his flimsy façade so easily. He straightened when Stiles stood up, searching his face for something. Derek had no idea what he was looking for, but it had him worried.

“I gotta see Jackson, before I talk to Allison and Chris,” he said and Derek couldn’t stop his head from turning slightly, as though he was trying to hear something.

Jackson. He remembered Chris calling the bartender ‘Jacks,’ before sending him over with his drink. For some reason, knowing the bartender’s name gave him some feeling, almost like he had an anchor. There was some point that he could ground himself. He could feel Laura staring at him and knew the questions would come the moment Stiles left.

“We’re fairly certain that the Drive is acting up because Halloween is coming,” Stiles said and finished his coffee. “I recommend staying inside as much as possible.”

“Thanks, Stiles,” Laura said as she walked him to the door. “We’ll try to be careful. I hope you do, too.”

Stiles grinned. “I always am.”

The moment the door closed, Laura turned around and stared at Derek. “You were guided? When did that start happening?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

Derek stared down at the table. He really should have known that something would happen that would tip his sister off to him zoning out. He couldn’t even really explain why he was zoning out. Nothing different had happened to him. Being back in Beacon Hills wasn’t something he wanted. Maybe he was subconsciously trying to kill himself by being unaware of his surroundings.

“It was the bartender that guided you, wasn’t it? Jackson?” Derek wasn’t going to answer her. She already knew the answers. “I didn’t even realize he was a Guide.”

Derek wasn’t sure if he was, either. There was nothing about him that showed he was a Guide. The first time Derek saw him, he figured he kept his eyes down and his ears closed off around the Drive because everyone did that. No one wanted to hear, see or feel the voices that could be heard, trying to beckon others in. Derek was lost in hearing them, trying to understand what their whispered words were promising him when Jackson ran into him that first time. The touch was enough to bring him out of whatever trance he was in.

It could be that Jackson was a physical Guide, instead of a spiritual or vocal Guide. He had used both touch and voice to bring Derek back, but he hadn’t touched Derek that morning. Instead, he had snapped his fingers, which was strange. That shouldn’t have been enough to bring him back. So why did it? Why did Jackson make him feel safe?

Derek froze as that thought hit him. That’s what it was. He felt safe around the bartender. He didn’t know the first thing about him, but he had guided him back, twice. Jackson didn’t need to guide him, but he had done it. Jackson didn’t need to snap him out of it, but he had done it. They didn’t know each other and Jackson had brought him back, twice. Why had he done it? He hadn’t thanked him for it, either time.

Removing his shirt, Derek went to the bathroom, closing the door. He couldn’t give Laura any answers she was looking for. He didn’t know. He couldn’t begin to fathom it, but he could shower and hope for the best. He stripped and stepped under the lukewarm water. Once he was clean, he turned off the water and stared down at the tiles that definitely needed a good scrubbing.

Out of the shower, Derek wrapped a towel around his hips and checked his back in the small mirror over the basin. He could see the dark marks from the pool cue that had beaten him. Jackson had told him that he didn’t need to take it. Derek knew he was right, but he couldn’t leave the other to defend himself. He could have and not gotten involved. He could have walked out the moment the first brawl started. That meant that Jackson would’ve dealt with that alone and probably would’ve been killed.

Being back in Beacon Hills had done nothing for him, Derek realized. He didn’t want to be there and he didn’t want to look into the fire. He didn’t want to know why his uncle had gone into Devil Gate Drive. He didn’t want to know why Jackson had guided him. He didn’t want to know anything. All he wanted was to sleep.

\--

The sun always disappeared quickly in Beacon Hills, almost like every month was winter. By the time it was six, the sun was gone. If there were any supernaturals around, they would probably enjoy the limited sunlight. Derek did enjoy it, as the bright light messed with his sight. That was probably why he enjoyed bars, as they kept things rather dim, unlike the pizza place he was standing in at the moment.

A laugh made him flinch and glance over his shoulder. He quickly looked away when he saw Jackson sitting in a booth, across from two other males that must be dating. He was only there to pick up their order and then go home, where he could pretend he was relatively normal. He tried to pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping, but it wasn’t like they were super quiet about their conversation.

“We weren’t sure if we should continue last night,” one of them said and there was a grin in the voice. “When you came home, you looked like hell. Are you sure it was only the fights?”

“Yeah,” Jackson answered. “With Halloween coming up and the Drive acting up…” The other two murmured their agreement. “So, Ethan, how did you meet Danny?”

“Well, that took some conning,” Ethan said. “He always had his nose buried in a book, like he couldn’t study enough. I finally spilled coffee on him and that seemed to get his attention. I mean, it took like five minutes before he realized he was wet.” There was a kiss shared. “How about you, Jacks? You got anyone in your life?”

“No. Haven’t really thought about it much. I’ve mostly been keeping Danny from going insane with his studies.” Jackson laughed and Derek turned his head. The one he assumed was Danny was glaring playfully at Jackson.

Ethan kissed the side of Danny’s head and his eyes locked with Derek’s. Derek knew he was a Sentinel, as well. “I think someone’s watching you, Jacks,” he said.

Jackson frowned and turned around in the booth. His eyes landed on Derek immediately and he smiled. Derek got the feeling he was about to ask him over and he had never been so grateful to have someone shout, “Order for Hale!”

Derek paid for the pizzas and grabbed the boxes, leaving the shop. He kept his eyes down, trying to ignore the brightness of the headlights that swept over him. He looked over his shoulder, half-expecting Jackson to have followed him. There was no Guide behind him, which should be for the best. Jackson was out with his friends. He didn’t even know Derek’s name. He probably felt like he needed to be friendly to him, because he had guided him back. Besides, he wouldn’t leave his friends to follow some guy he didn’t know.

Facing forward again, Derek made his way back to the apartment. After he ate, he could pretend to get some sleep.

* * *

Jackson sighed as he rolled over, staring at the window that overlooked the street behind the building. After the pizza shop, the three of them had returned to the apartment. Jackson watched a movie with them and then got the feeling that they wanted some time alone. He had spent the last four hours trying to sleep. His mind was racing and he didn’t even know what half of the thoughts were.

His eyes fluttered shut, only to snap open when there was a bang in the apartment. Sighing softly, Jackson sat up and shook his head. He couldn’t believe that something that came so naturally to him had vanished. He stood and grabbed his jeans, pulling them on. He grabbed a shirt and a jacket and slipped his feet into his shoes. He made sure he had his keys and slipped out of the apartment, ignoring the breathy noises coming from Danny’s bedroom. Just a few minutes alone to calm his mind was all he needed.

Locking the door behind him, Jackson went down the stairs. His shoes squeaked on the paint and he winced, pausing a moment. As far as he could hear, no one was coming to chase him out of the building and continued down, until he stepped out into the cool night air. He wanted to say he had no idea where he was going, was just going to let his feet guide him, but he knew he had a destination in mind.

At one of few bars that were still open, Jackson slipped inside. At the bar, he ordered three double shots of vodka, knocking back two before he paid. He rubbed the nape of his neck, staring down at the bar and turned his head slightly. In a shadowed corner, he could almost swear the Sentinel was there, watching him and waiting for him to make a stupid mistake.

After another two double shots, Jackson nursed the last one. He turned away people that wanted to make conversation with him, only wanting to drown his sudden insomnia. He brought the shot glass to his lips and froze when the stench of the alcohol slammed into him, as though sniffing it was enough to get him drunk. He lowered his hand and rubbed his nose, looking at his hand. He raised his eyes, feeling the person behind him and knew it was the Sentinel.

Something was going to happen that neither of them could change. Jackson knew it as much as he knew his name and he turned around, staring into the green eyes of the Sentinel. His insomnia was coming from that man. Somehow, they were linked together. If he didn’t have a large amount of vodka muddling his brain, he would realize that ‘linked’ was the wrong word.

The Sentinel ran his eyes over him, taking in everything. Jackson’s lips parted to say something, anything. All words left him as the man’s eyes snapped to his lips and Jackson’s heartrate increased. Even through the alcohol his body wanted that man. When he was sober, he could pretend that he wasn’t attracted to him. With his filter removed, he couldn’t deny what was so obviously on display. The Sentinel, whose name he didn’t even know, was in the bar with him. He was drunk and could probably blame the alcohol in the morning.

As much as he wanted that easy out, Jackson stepped closer and buried his nose into the man’s throat, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. The Sentinel had heightened smell, as Jackson could scent everything on him. The leather, sweat and the faint soap. There was something that made Jackson think of regret, like the time he broke up with his boyfriend or like him being that close to the Sentinel without being able to do anything about it.

“Go home,” the Sentinel whispered and Jackson opened his eyes.

“Come with me.” Jackson knew the rejection was coming. He felt it in the way the Sentinel tensed. “Not for sex, but just to sleep. You need it.” Even then, the Sentinel was hesitating and Jackson sighed softly. “I’ll sleep on the sofa. The apartment is Sentinel approved, so it has soundproofing. Please. You need to sleep.”

Taking the sleeve of the leather jacket, Jackson pulled the Sentinel from the bar. His final shot was forgotten and he pulled the man along the streets, feeling far more sober than he should. The Sentinel followed silently behind him and Jackson wanted to look back, just to make sure he was all right. When fingers brushed his wrist, he smiled and knew the Sentinel was fine and was probably looking forward to the soundproof room.

Going up the eight flights of stairs, Jackson paused when his shoes squeaked again, biting his lower lip. He really needed to get different shoes. When no one roused, he continued on the path upwards. He unlocked the door, closing it silently as he couldn’t hear anything coming from Danny’s room. After locking the door, Jackson took the Sentinel to his room, before he grabbed pants to sleep in.

“Make yourself at home. The sheets were replaced yesterday, so they might smell like me. Sorry. I can get new sheets if you want,” he offered as he turned around. The Sentinel shook his head. “Okay. Um…I don’t know if anything I own will fit you.”

Jackson went to his tallboy and pulled out cotton pants that might be a little tight around the hips, but should be comfortable enough to sleep in. He turned to the Sentinel and froze when he saw he was undressing. He saw the tattoo between the shoulders and frowned, before he looked away It was bad enough that the Sentinel could hear his heartrate pick up, he didn’t need to feel someone watching him undress. He closed his eyes when he heard the belt buckle jingle, before he tossed the pants on the bed and went to leave the room.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Jackson froze, gasping softly when he felt lips on the back of his neck. He couldn’t stop the shudder from running through his body, as the nose inhaled his scent. The Sentinel was thanking him for something and Jackson frowned. He hadn’t done anything for the Sentinel that wouldn’t benefit him, as well. He needed sleep, just as much as the Sentinel needed it. This way, both of them got what they needed.

“If you keep doing that, the ‘no sex’ thing might become a lie,” he whispered, as he wasn’t sure what Ethan’s Sentinel abilities were. He knew one of them was touch. The lips left his skin and Jackson left the room, pausing at the door and not turning back, as he heard the zipper come down. “Goodnight.”

Closing the door behind him, Jackson went to the bathroom, removing the clothes he pulled on. He threw them into a hamper and pulled on the pants he grabbed. He pulled out a pillow and blanket from the hall closet and set up on the sofa. Once he was settled, he stared up at the ceiling, arm behind his head. The last time he slept on that sofa was when he came back blind drunk after the break up with his boyfriend. How different it was from this time. He was on the sofa in order to make a Sentinel comfortable. He smiled and closed his eyes.

\--

“Who the hell are you?”

Jackson opened his eyes, seeing Danny standing in the living room, staring towards Jackson’s bedroom. Blinking, Jackson looked over the sofa and saw the Sentinel he brought home standing there, in the pants that were too small for him. “He’s with me, Danny,” he mumbled and yawned. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the drawer in the bathroom, if you need it,” he told the Sentinel softly, who nodded and went into the bathroom.

“Who is that?” Danny asked, sitting beside Jackson, staring at him. “Where have you been keeping him?”

“I haven’t been keeping him anywhere,” Jackson said, resting his hands on the nape of his neck. “I guided him back a couple of times.”

Danny was quiet for a moment, looking at the bathroom door. “You’ve never done that before,” he whispered, pure panic in his voice. “You don’t even know _how_ to do that.”

“I still did it,” Jackson said with a shrug.

“But you don’t know what you were doing,” Danny said and returned his eyes to Jackson, wide with worry. “What if you did something wrong?”

Jackson glanced at Danny for a moment and then dropped his eyes. He understood exactly what he did wrong. He knew he had managed to bond himself to the Sentinel. Danny seemed to understand what his look meant and groaned, sitting back on the sofa. He covered his face with his hands and sighed. Jackson had no idea how to undo a bond with a Sentinel. He didn’t even know how to create one and he’d done it accidentally.

“Does he know?” Danny asked quietly as he dropped his hands.

“Yeah, he knows,” Jackson said and closed his eyes. He had no idea how the Sentinel knew or when he figured it out, but he knew that Jackson was somehow bonded to him. “I really should apologize for that.”

“You should find a way of breaking it,” Danny hissed and glanced at the bathroom door again. “You could go to jail for this, Jacks. Bonding someone against their will or knowledge?” He shook his head.

“I didn’t mean to do it. I’m Guide-adjacent! I was never meant to come across a Sentinel that was zoned out.” Jackson closed his eyes and sighed softly. “Is there even a way to break it?”

“You need to speak with Stiles, man. He might know a way.”

Jackson nodded and opened his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was involve law enforcement for something like this, but he knew Stiles would understand. He knew about Jackson and the fact he had no idea what he was doing when it came to being a Guide. He had brought the Sentinel back, though. That had to count for something, at the very least.

“Pity, though,” Danny murmured and Jackson glanced at him. “What? He’s hot.” Jackson rolled his eyes. Of course that was something Danny would focus on. “Like you didn’t notice it. He’s tall, dark and broody. Your favorite ty—”

Jackson slapped a hand over Danny’s mouth and glared into his eyes, straddling his lap. “He has enhanced hearing,” he hissed and narrowed his eyes, glancing at the bathroom door. “I don’t need him knowing that he’s the kind of guy I’d have pound me into the mattress. It doesn’t make the accidental bond thing look like an accident.”

“I know it was an accident.”

Jackson looked up and found the Sentinel standing outside the bathroom, gazing at them. Jackson’s eyes ran down the torso on display, eyes hovering on the collarbones that were begging for him to bite them. He swallowed and forced his eyes back to the man’s face, trying to ignore the fact that his face was on fire and likely bright red. He wasn’t a teenager anymore! Seeing a hot guy shouldn’t make him react that way.

Danny moving his head to look back and in turn making Jackson’s arm move brought him back to reality. He released Danny’s mouth and sighed softly, unsure what to do or say. “Um… I’m sorry about that. If…If you don’t mind giving me a few minutes to get ready, we can talk to Stiles about it.”

The Sentinel’s brow furrowed, before his eyes went to Danny’s bedroom door that was opening. Jackson closed his eyes and cursed mentally. Of course Ethan would pick that point to come out and hear all the details about how incompetent Jackson was. He had probably heard it all while he was in the bedroom and was just hanging back to be polite. Jackson wasn’t even worried that he was straddling Danny’s lap at this point.

“Hey, Derek,” Ethan said as he filled the kettle and got the water heating. “What are you doing here?” His eyes moved to Danny and Jackson and he frowned. “Is there something between you two that I should know about?”

Danny and Jackson frowned at him and then glanced at the other. Their eyes widened and Jackson slipped off of Danny’s lap. “No. He’s all yours. I’m just…gonna use the bathroom and then we can get going.”

Jackson cleared his throat and slipped past Derek into the bathroom. He used the toilet and brushed his teeth, before he went to the bedroom and frowned over his shoulder when Derek followed him, closing the door. The Sentinel gazed at him, eyes intently focused on him, as though he wanted to make sure Jackson dressed. He didn’t realize that Sentinels were that…intense.

Fighting off a full body flush at the eyes, Jackson swallowed. “Could I get some privacy?”

Derek’s eyes ran over his body and Jackson felt the need to hug himself, as though he knew he wasn’t good enough for a Sentinel. He fought that weakness off and leveled a glare at Derek. He tilted his head and then turned around, facing the door. Jackson exhaled shakily and grabbed some clean clothes, dressing as quickly as possible. He didn’t care that his shirt was inside out, he could fix it in the living room.

“Thanks,” he said as he went to the door, waiting for Derek to move. The Sentinel turned around and removed his shirt, fixed it and slipped it over his head. Jackson blinked and slipped his arms through, trying to pretend that was completely normal. Just as he was trying to pretend that it was completely normal to feel a pull towards Derek. It was entirely normal to want to touch a complete stranger.

Realizing that he wasn’t giving Derek enough to move, Jackson stepped to the side. He frowned as Derek’s fingers brushed against his own when he stepped past, but refused to think on it. He left the bedroom and grabbed a cup of coffee, sitting at the table with Ethan and Danny. Ethan looked him over and Jackson glared at him, daring him to speak what was clearly on his mind.

“I texted Stiles, asking him if he could come over alone to discuss an…issue,” Danny said and Jackson nodded, sipping the coffee, nailing his gaze to the table. “Ethan and I can…take a walk when he gets here.”

Jackson nodded again and grabbed another mug, making another coffee with sugar and milk. He placed it in front of the empty chair at the table, not surprised when Derek exited the bedroom a few seconds later. Ethan and Danny frowned at him and then Derek, as though they were trying to figure out the link. Jackson sighed and sat back, holding his mug in front of him like it was a talisman.

“I would have made him tea, but we don’t have any,” Jackson finally said when he grew tired of Ethan and Danny looking between him and Derek.

“That doesn’t help the weirdness.” Danny raised an eyebrow. “Is that it means to be bonded?”

Jackson shrugged. “You’re the Guide, not me.”

Derek frowned between Danny and Jackson. “I thought you were a Guide,” he said softly and Jackson shivered, the voice doing very strange things to him.

“I’m Guide-adjacent,” Jackson said quietly, looking into his mug. “That’s probably how I fucked up as badly as I did. I had no idea what I was doing and…just did what I thought I needed to.”

“Oh shit,” Ethan said, eyes wide as he looked between Derek and Jackson. “You _bonded_ to him?”

Jackson sighed. “It was an _accident_. I don’t know how to bond to someone, so I probably did it without realizing.”

“Were you in contact with his skin when you guided him?” Danny asked and Jackson frowned, looking up. He glanced at Derek, who nodded. “That’s how you bonded with him. That probably explains why you suddenly couldn’t sleep.”

Jackson slumped in the chair. “Fuck,” he whispered and glanced at Derek. “I am so sorry. I never meant to bond with you.” Derek nodded and glanced at the door. Jackson’s nose twitched as he caught the scent of gun oil. “Why can I smell that?”

Danny smiled and shook his head. “That’s what it’s like to bond with a Sentinel. Not only do you just know things about them, but you can sometimes share with their heightened senses.” He stood up and opened the door when Stiles knocked.

True to their word, Danny and Ethan left, while Jackson and Derek stared at Stiles. Once the door closed, Jackson’s eyes dropped to the gun and handcuffs on Stiles’ belt. “I bonded to Derek by accident,” he blurted out and Stiles’ eyes widened.

“Okay…I wasn’t expecting that.” Stiles frowned and joined them at the table, turning the kettle on and making himself a cup of coffee. He sat down and gazed at Jackson. “You’re Guide-adjacent, aren’t you?” Jackson nodded. “And you’re…?”

“Tier Four,” Derek answered gently.

Jackson’s eyes widened. He honestly didn’t think that Tier Four Sentinels existed. There wasn’t many documented cased around for them. However, when he saw Stiles’ expression and knew his was the same, he quickly dropped his eyes. Derek didn’t seem proud of being a Tier Four and Jackson didn’t want to make him feel like he was some kind of freak. Derek’s hand twitched, fingers brushing against Jackson’s again.

“Sorry,” Jackson muttered and pulled his hands onto his lap. He knew that Derek was trying to comfort him or let him know that everything was all right.

“All right,” Stiles said with a frown, staring at Derek’s hand. “Jacks, I know you’ve always been empathetic.” Jackson stared at him. “I’ve known since middle school, dude. You always knew when something was wrong or would go wrong. I don’t remember much of your family, Derek. But I’m guessing one of your four heightened senses is psychic?” Derek nodded and Jackson glanced at him. Empathy, as well. “I think you two were meant to bond,” Stiles said with a shrug.

“I’m not a Guide.”

Stiles drank his coffee, gazing at Jackson steadily. “You brought him back.”

“Yeah and when I did that, I bonded with him. Clearly I’m not cut out for this job.”

“He’s the only Sentinel you’ve ever tried to bring back,” Stiles stated and smirked. “Are you trying to say that he’s not attractive enough?”

“Fuck no! That’s not what I’m trying to say at all,” Jackson snapped and stood up, glaring at Stiles. “I’m saying that he needs a Guide who knows what they’re doing. He doesn’t need a Guide- _adjacent_!”

“You guided him back,” Stiles said with a shrug. “You know what you’re doing when it comes to Derek.”

“And if Derek doesn’t want it?” Stiles frowned and Jackson smirked. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d have thought of that, Stilinski. We don’t know each other, so being bonded is insane.”

“Do I get a say?” Derek asked and Jackson bit his lower lip, realizing that he was shouting at Stiles.

“Sorry,” he whispered and sat down.

“He’s right,” Derek said and gazed at Stiles. “I can’t be bonded to anyone at the moment. I might need to leave the town suddenly and I can’t expect my partner to uproot their life.”

Jackson refused to let the hurt of that show on his face or in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if the hurt was from him or Derek, but placed a hand over Derek’s. It was the least he could do before their bond was removed. Derek turned his hand around and Jackson was certain it was an automatic response. For the most part, he was grateful that Derek got at least one decent night of sleep since he returned to the town.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Look, why don’t you two talk about it? Your bond seems quite strong, already. If you both agree wholeheartedly, I’ll remove the bond. How does that sound?”

“Fine,” Derek and Jackson answered with a shrug, both sitting back.

Jackson frowned at Derek, knowing he had something else to do that day, which involved his sister. Jackson wasn’t going to force him to stay in the apartment and talk about a bond neither of them wanted. So, ten minutes after Stiles left, just to make sure he wasn’t hanging around, Jackson folded the blanket he used the previous night. He knew what he needed to say, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He needed to let Derek go and that hurt.

“I’ll tell him we spoke and that we agreed to have the bond removed,” Jackson said, staring down at the sofa. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Derek, who was gazing at him with those intense eyes.

“He’ll want to hear it from the both of us, so he can see our reactions to it,” Derek said and Jackson knew he was right. It would be too easy for them to lie about it.

“I am sorry,” Jackson said and sighed. His first time being a Guide and he bonded with the guy. He could have thought of a dozen other ways to fuck up his life, but this had to be one of the best ways. “I guess I now know why I never bothered with it.”

“Why did you never learn how to be a Guide?”

Jackson looked at Derek. He was genuinely curious. Not even Danny bothered to ask why he never learned the basics, just in case something happened. He didn’t know that many Sentinels for a reason. The less he was around them, the less likely it was for him to need to guide them.

“I’m on the lower end of the spectrum when it comes to Guides,” he said with a shrug. “It was almost like I was meant to be one, but then decided it wasn’t worth it, but just in case, I’ll have some abilities there.” He shook his head, hating how when he showed the doctor just looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Being a Guide was never in his books and he was fine with that.

Derek tilted his head and Jackson turned to him fully, knowing that Derek wanted to see his face. He wasn’t sure if he could get used to that. Knowing what someone wanted and being aware of their presence, or lack of it, didn’t sound that good to him. His legs wanted to move closer to Derek, but he wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to distract himself by being that close to the Sentinel. They needed to talk about the bond. They needed to agree that it was a bad idea.

There was that pain again. Jackson frowned. “You don’t want to remove the bond?” Derek dropped his eyes and Jackson moved over to him, tilting his head up. “Why? You can’t want this.”

Derek’s eyes were filled with emotions that Jackson had a hard time keeping track of them. Want, need, _please_ , fear, understanding…everything except happiness. Maybe Derek felt this was convenient. With a Guide that didn’t want him as a Sentinel, he wouldn’t need to worry about zoning out. That didn’t sound right. Even though he knew next to nothing about Derek, he felt that Derek wouldn’t use him like that.

The longer he stared into Derek’s eyes, the less sure he felt about breaking the bond. Derek needed something from him, but Jackson wasn’t sure if he could give it. He had broken up with his boyfriend a month ago and he refused to rebound. He wanted to take the time and heal, enjoy time to himself without fearing someone else’s problems taking over. And yet when he looked at the bonded pairs he knew, Stiles and Lydia, Isaac and Allison and even Scott and Kira, they seemed _happy_ without constantly displaying it.

As morose as it was, Jackson wasn’t sure if he could give Derek anything he wanted or needed. He had shown he wasn’t capable of guiding someone without cocking it up. He was a mess mentally, though that didn’t seem as bad when Derek was around. He doubted someone like Derek would be into gay sex, which was probably the biggest disappointment for Jackson. He removed his hand from Derek’s jaw and stepped back, refusing to acknowledge the flash of confused hurt.

Derek had been sleeping, though. Maybe not a great deal, but it was a lot more than he previously had been. That was probably the one thing that Jackson didn’t want to remove. Knowing where Derek was at all times or what he wanted was the weirdest part of the bond. He didn’t need to know any of that, but he knew that Derek needed his sleep.

“I…” Jackson trailed off and frowned, trying to put his scattered thoughts into words. He had no idea what he wanted from Derek, except to have the bond removed so they could go about their normal lives. Derek seemed to feel that and Jackson knew he was forcing back a wince. “I want to know you, but in the old fashioned way,” he said and Derek frowned, tilting his head. “I don’t want to know you because I bonded with you. Are we even a good match for each other?”

“You’re the only person that’s managed to bond with me,” Derek murmured with a shrug.

“Yeah, against your will,” Jackson added and crossed his arms. “You like whiskey, I prefer vodka. I prefer coffee, you like tea. I love winter, you love summer.” He frowned.

Derek stood up and Jackson took a step back. Before he could say anything, Danny and Ethan returned, which had Jackson looking away from Derek. He smiled at the pair that froze and stared at them, as though they had just walked in on something. Jackson ignored the feel of Derek’s eyes on him. It was more difficult to say the words if he knew Derek was watching him.

“We agreed to break the bond,” Jackson said and Danny frowned, eyes going to Derek.

“Does Derek know that?”

“He does now,” Jackson said with a shrug.

Jackson lowered his eyes as Derek went into the bedroom. He came back out two minutes later, dressed and left the apartment. Jackson fought off the feeling of loss and the need to chase him down. They couldn’t be bonded. Neither of them wanted it. Neither of them had given consent to it. Jackson knew that if he wasn’t bonded with Derek, he wouldn’t feel the need to make sure he was okay. He doubted they would have ever met.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked gently and Jackson glared at him.

“I’m fine,” he snapped and went to his bedroom, slamming the door. He went to lie on his bed, bury his face into his pillows and muffle his sobs as much as possible, until he remembered that Derek was the last one to sleep there. He removed the pillows, covers and sheets, before he sat beside his bed and covered his head with his arms. It was for the best.

* * *

Derek felt the bond leave him the next day. There was a hollow space in him, in his head, in his chest, he wasn’t sure where it was, just that it suddenly existed. It could have always existed and he didn’t realize it. But once it was filled and was now empty, he was very aware of empty it was. He didn’t blame Jackson for the bond, but he would blame him for the void that would likely be in both of them. Even without the bond, he knew that Jackson would pretend he couldn’t feel it. He would pretend that he wasn’t seeking out something else to fill it with.

Perhaps it was for the best.

Derek threw himself into helping Laura with the fire. Like Jackson, he would pretend that he couldn’t feel that void. He would pretend that nothing had happened. Laura noticed the difference, though. She looked at him, confused and concerned. She wanted to ask him, wanted to know what had him so interested in the fire suddenly, but she must have seen something on his face. She never questioned him and Derek wasn’t sure if that made him happy or furious.

Drinking until he had dulled his senses no longer happened. As they grew closer to Halloween, nearly everywhere was shutting down for it. Derek could feel the presence looming over the town. Breathing was almost a chore most days, as though some kind of tentacle had wrapped itself around his throat and was choking him with every inhale. There was a strange silence that came from that idea, as he lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling.

They were getting closer to who was responsible for the fire. Derek tried to keep it from his face as Laura went out one night. He didn’t want her going out that close to Halloween. Surely, she could feel the darkness that was pressing in around the town. She could feel the lack of oxygen and she could feel the weight forcing them down. She acted as though she couldn’t.

Instead of thinking about that, Derek’s mind wandered to the one time he saw Jackson. He and Laura were getting groceries and it seemed Jackson and Danny had the same idea. Jackson was looking at boxes of tea, frowning down at them and gnawing at his lip like he wasn’t sure which of them was better. Laura had nudged him in the ribs, pointing him out. Derek turned away as Jackson raised his head, as though he could sense that Derek was close by. He let Laura do the grocery shopping alone after that.

Derek frowned and shook his head, feeling a fugue state coming on. There was a strange buzzing sound and when he looked at the clock on the bedside chest, he saw that it was past midnight. It was officially Halloween and Laura still wasn’t back. Outside the apartment, he could hear people in the streets, screaming hysterically and laughing manically. There were sirens coming from everywhere. The smell of smoke drifted in and Derek sat up, heart hammering in his chest.

Two weeks. Everything that was happening now had been building for two weeks. For one night, Beacon Hills became the new Detroit. He winced as he heard molotovs being thrown and the sound of fire catching. There were people screaming in pain and fear. All of it was crowding into his head, his eyes staring unfocused at the door to the bedroom. The firebugs were close, getting closer. He could hear people in the surrounding apartments getting ready to flee, but that would just make them easier targets.

Darkness pressed in on his mind or his eyes, he couldn’t tell at the moment. Laura was out there in that mess. She was out there alone, surrounded by maniacs and deviants. He had let her walk out of the apartment without any protection. She had her nose and her sensitive skin, which could alert her to any dangers, but she didn’t have him with her. She was _alone_.

There was a pounding that seemed to drown out the screams and laughs. He should move towards it, but he couldn’t focus on anything except what he could hear. Someone was saying his name. Laura went out hours ago and she wasn’t back yet. He couldn’t hear her anywhere. She wasn’t speaking, unless she was out of range for his ears. That couldn’t be right. He would always hear her, even if she was on Mars. Why couldn’t he hear her?

“Come on, buddy. Block it out and come back.”

Stiles. He was speaking and Derek knew he should listen to the words and follow them back to their source. He didn’t want that, though. If he did that, he wouldn’t hear Laura if she called for him. Something bright was shining in his eyes, but he focused on his ears. Stiles was still talking to him, trying to engage him. Derek couldn’t do that. He needed to hear if Laura needed him.

More words were spoken and someone left the apartment. No one entered, though. Laura was still missing. She had been so close to discovering who had set the fire, which meant she… She could have walked into a trap. She could have been lured somewhere, under the promise of information. Someone could have taken her by surprise and left her for dead. She would just be another casualty of Halloween in Beacon Hills.

People were entering the apartment. He could hear their footsteps and he knew he needed to be aware of who they were. One could be Laura. “Derek.”

Jackson! He was there. Breathing in, he caught the gentle scent of rose and orange. There was a soft touch on his chest and he became aware that someone was touching him.

“Come back, Derek.” Jackson sounded so soft, like a cloud floating across the sun during a summer day, or a snowflake falling on him during winter. “Feel this. Listen to the beating of your heart. Come back to us. Please, Derek.”

Blinking, Derek’s eyes focused on Jackson’s concerned blues. Relief flooded them and he sighed, standing back. He looked as though he was still in his pajamas, like someone had dragged him from bed and brought him there. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t been sleeping much. Derek knew that if he asked about it, Jackson would lie to him. He knew that if he asked anything personal, Jackson would just lie about it.

Stiles filled his vision as Jackson walked out of the bedroom. Derek could hear the kettle being filled and the burner turning on. Jackson was making tea. Derek could smell the chamomile. Why was he making tea? Shouldn’t Laura be doing that? His eyes focused on Stiles again. Why was he there?

“Hey, buddy. Once we’re sure you’re back with us, I need you to come down to the station with me,” Stiles said gently and Derek frowned. There was worry in Stiles’ eyes, as well as sadness.

Derek nodded and stood up, following Stiles out of the bedroom. He paused when he found Noah enjoying a cup of a coffee, despite the fact that bedlam was erupting around them in the town. Jackson placed a cup of tea on the table and stood back, as though he didn’t want to crowd Derek. He kept his eyes down and Derek frowned as the urge to hug him came from the void.

Instead of giving in to the urge, Derek sat down and sipped the tea, which had been sweetened with honey. Living that close to the Drive, fresh produce turned bad within a few hours. Noah told Jackson he would take him home after he had finished his coffee. Jackson said nothing, staring down at the floor and nodded. Derek refused to look at him. It seemed as though the removal of the bond had affected him as badly as it did Derek. Both were trying to act as though it was completely normal for them not to look at the other, to not be hyper-aware of their presence.

Perhaps that was normal for them.

* * *

Jackson laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. For the last two weeks, he hadn’t been able to sleep. As much as he tried to keep his mind blank, he kept thinking about how empty he felt. He never thought that removing the bond would affect him like that. He didn’t even realize he was whole, until Stiles took away the part that made everything unfocused, like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Without that piece, nothing looked right and it felt even worse than he imagined.

There were instances where he thought he felt Derek. That day in the grocery store, staring at two boxes of tea, one chamomile and the other regular black tea, he was certain he knew Derek was there. Looking up in time to see him turn around, as though he hadn’t seen him, Jackson could pretend that didn’t hurt. He could pretend that it was a fluke and that he didn’t feel Derek near him. He got both boxes of tea, because he could convince himself that he and Danny would enjoy it.

The one thing he couldn’t deny he sensed was when Derek zoned out. There had been smaller ones, but Derek always managed to get himself back. The morning of Halloween, though. He had been tossing and turning, trying to figure out what was wrong. He had some crazy notion in his head that Derek was in danger, which wasn’t true. When that voice died off, he heard one telling him that Derek needed him. They didn’t have a bond anymore. How could he feel it when Derek was in need of a Guide?

That thought didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Derek needed someone to bring him back. He had pulled his shoes on, determined to run to Derek’s apartment if needed. The moment he stepped out of the building, Noah was there. They blinked at each other, both confused on what the other was doing there. Jackson knew the Sheriff was there to take him to Derek and he slipped into the passenger seat of the car, just wanting to get there.

Stiles was still trying to bring Derek back and Jackson had no hope of doing that. Stiles was a trained Guide with the law enforcement. He knew exactly what he was doing and knew how to bring Sentinels back. If he couldn’t do it, how was Jackson meant to? Maybe Derek didn’t want to come back, which struck him with a fear he didn’t think was possible.

Now, he was back in his bed, two nights later, staring at the ceiling again. His mind on Derek and wondering where his sister was. There had to be a reason for Stiles and Noah to wanted to speak with Derek at the station. Sitting up, Jackson’s eyes widened and he reached for his phone, until he remembered that he didn’t have Derek’s number. Despite wanting to get to know him in the old fashioned way, Jackson didn’t really reach out to him.

Throwing back the covers, Jackson left the bedroom, phone in hand. He had every intention of messaging Stiles for Derek’s number, when he paused. There was a soft knock at the front door and Jackson frowned, going over to it. He unlocked the door and found Derek standing on the other side, eyes blank and slightly glazed. He was zoned out again. Grabbing the sleeve of his jacket, Jackson pulled him into the apartment, closing and locking the door, unable to believe that Stiles hadn’t kept an eye on him.

“Derek,” Jackson whispered, glad to see some life return to his eyes. He was apologizing for showing up and Jackson sighed, taking him through to his bedroom. “Get some sleep. You look like hell.”

Jackson went to leave the bedroom when a hand grabbed his. It wasn’t strong or forceful, just barely holding him. He looked back at Derek, who was staring down at the floor. Frowning, Jackson turned back to him and removed the jacket the Sentinel wore. No one should look that good in a leather jacket. He sat Derek down and removed his boots, turning him so he could lay on the bed.

Sitting on the edge, once the covers were up over the broad form, Jackson gazed down at him. There was a wall of unshed tears behind Derek’s eyes and Jackson bit the inside of his lower lip. He couldn’t imagine the feeling of losing someone he loved so dearly, again. He knew that Derek had lost his family in the fire, ten years ago. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, as he knew he would never understand fully.

Derek’s eyes closed and Jackson placed his hand over Derek’s. He stayed there, watching as Derek frowned until he was certain he had finally fallen asleep. When he felt his own eyes growing too heavy to keep open, he slowly removed his hand and made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door to keep down some of the noise. Danny and Ethan were getting serious with each other, but that also meant a lot of loud flirting in the mornings.

When Derek woke, so did Jackson. Danny was getting the kettle going and turned around, pausing when Jackson sat up on the sofa. His eyes went to the bedroom door and Jackson nodded, yawning. The bedroom door opened and Jackson rubbed his neck as Derek went to the bathroom. Ethan came out a few minutes later and froze, staring at Jackson, who sighed.

“Derek’s here,” he said and Ethan nodded, going into the tiny kitchen and kissing Danny’s cheek.

“You look like shit, Jacks,” Danny said and Jackson realized he was too tired to glare at his friend.

There was chatter from Danny and Ethan, while Jackson waited for the bathroom to free up. The moment the door opened, he stood and slipped past Derek, going about becoming somewhat human. As he didn’t have work until the following week, Jackson just stayed in his pajamas. If things went well, he could pass out in his bed. He joined the other three at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee.

After a few minutes, Danny and Ethan decided to return to the bedroom and Jackson sighed, finishing his coffee. Derek was staring down into his tea, as though trying to lead the leaves through the bag that contained them. “You should drink it,” Jackson said as he rinsed out his mug.

“There was a riot at the asylum on Halloween,” Derek said and Jackson turned around, drying his hands on a dishtowel. “My uncle escaped.”

Jackson nodded. He knew all about Peter Hale’s brush with Devil Gate Drive, being the only person to come back alive after a venture down the road. He didn’t come back completely normal or sane, but he was the first one to come back. He wondered if that was why Derek and Laura had returned to Beacon Hills after so long away.

“Are you worried he might hurt someone again?” Jackson asked as he sat beside Derek.

“He did.”

Jackson frowned and grabbed his phone, bringing up the news for the past two days. His eyes widened when he saw that Kate Argent, Allison’s aunt had been murdered. There was something in there about another body being found and his eyes went to Derek, who was still staring into his tea. The other body wasn’t named, but he knew it was Laura. Peter had killed Kate, though it seemed as though he had planned on the murder long before Halloween arrived and just used that as an excuse.

Locking his phone, Jackson took Derek’s hand and squeeze it. “I’m sorry.”

“I felt it. I knew she was dead. That’s why I zoned out to the point Stiles had to bring you.”

Jackson winced as Derek pulled his hand free. “I felt you zone out. Noah was about to come up and get me, but I was already walking out the door.”

“You didn’t want the bond. Why were you chasing after the echoes of it so badly?”

“I didn’t want an _accidental_ bond.” Jackson stood up and rested against a counter. “But since we don’t have it, I guess that means you can leave.”

Derek nodded and drank his tea. “Thank you for the tea and for letting me sleep here last night.”

Jackson lowered his eyes as Derek washed the cup. He kept his eyes down as he went into the bedroom, pulling on his boots and jacket. “Take care of yourself,” he said when the front door unlocked.

“I could learn to like winter.”

Jackson looked up as the door closed, biting his lower lip. He sighed and shook his head, going to collect the cups that Danny and Ethan left on the table. Putting them in the sink, he looked at the door and knew what he should do. He should be chasing down Derek and pulling him back into the apartment until the storm passed. He sighed again and went to the door, opening it.

Glaring, Jackson left the apartment and went downstairs. He didn’t care that he was still in his pajamas. He didn’t care that he was the one that had asked to remove the bond. He didn’t care that he had accidentally bonded to Derek in the first place. The Sentinel needed someone to keep him grounded. If he felt the emptiness that Jackson did, he was more likely to zone out somewhere dangerous or he was likely to wander down Devil Gate Drive. Neither of those options were good for Jackson. He had fought to lose him and he would fight to get him back.

Outside, he was soaked in seconds. He detested the fall rains in Beacon Hills. The falling water felt somehow cool and warm. He looked up and down the street, seeing that Derek had walked left out of the building. Jackson chased after him and grabbed his arm. Derek stopped and didn’t turn around. Jackson had no idea what he wanted to say or how he could convey what he wanted from Derek.

Stepping around Derek, Jackson stared into his face. Leaning up, he pressed his lips to Derek’s. As he thought that Derek wasn’t going to respond, he firmed his lips and Jackson wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck. Derek’s hands were hot on his lower back and his neck. Their tongues met and Jackson shivered, tasting the tea and the mint toothpaste. He never wanted to taste anything ever again if it didn’t come from Derek’s mouth. Derek kissed like he stared, hard and intense, everything bared to Jackson in the movements of his lips and tongue.

They pulled apart and Jackson buried his face into Derek’s throat. He was a complete moron, wanting to remove the bond. He would gladly bond with Derek again if it meant he could have that happiness he felt for those first few days. He closed his eyes as Derek’s arms tightened around him, never wanting to let him go again. He could readily admit that he was wrong the first time.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson murmured.

Derek’s arms tightened around him for a moment, before they released him and he stepped back. Jackson opened his eyes and stared at him, feeling his heart sinking as Derek gazed at him. There wasn’t anything he could say or do if Derek decided he didn’t want this. Jackson lowered his eyes, waiting for Derek to walk around him and carry on with his life. He closed his eyes as Derek cupped his cheek, knowing his tears were mixing with the rain.

“Tell me it’s not over.”

* * *

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Please leave a kudos/comment if ya did.
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


End file.
